During dinner last night, we were having those freakish jaunts down memory lane that nearly causes you to lose your appetite. (Nearly, but not quite. Very little keeps me from my food.) It pains me to remember how I dated his fellow but some memories are too good to keep to myself and must be shared with my loyal blog audience.

This former boyfriend (thought I cringe at calling him that), owner of not one but TWO huge Ford trucks, wanted to purchase a set of truck testicles as "manly" decoration. Yes, really. As if the giant, rumbling, muddy vehicles with urinating gremlin decals were not enough, AS IF.

I told him in no uncertain terms that I WOULD NOT ride in or near any vehicle sporting such decoration. Furthermore, I would WALK before being seen supporting such vulgarity with my presence. Faced with the prospect of a girlfriend who would be doing a lot of walking (and would quickly lose those curves he loved!), he
relented. Imagine my shock when I saw him mowing the lawn on his riding lawnmower, testicles proudly dangling FROM HIS LAWNMOWER. Painted yellow, to coordinate with his John Deere equipment.


Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it.